


A Tight Fit

by chaos_monkey



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Demanding Jaskier, Gratuitous Smut, Lots of come, M/M, POV Alternating, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fill, Scent Kink, huge cock, possessive geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:40:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey
Summary: Geralt is... bigger than Jaskier expected.They make it work.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 52
Kudos: 1025
Collections: Dandelion, Witcher Kink Meme (Dreamwidth)





	A Tight Fit

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for a [Witcher Kinkmeme prompt](https://witcherkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/429.html?thread=11437#cmt11437) on Dreamwidth - Geralt’s cock is too big (+ scent kink)  
> I'm not sure how this went unfilled for so long, but it matched up quite nicely with a couple entirely self-indulgent ideas I'd been kicking around, sooo....voila! Hope you all enjoy.

The first time they tumbled into bed together— _finally—_ Jaskier was _not_ prepared for what he hauled out of Geralt’s pants. 

“…Oh,” he managed, his voice nearly a squeak as he glanced up at the witcher’s face with wide eyes. 

“I did warn you,” Geralt said with a little twist of a sardonic smirk on his lips. 

He had, that was true. Jaskier hadn’t thought he meant… _that_ big, though. 

“Changed your mind, then?” Geralt asked, and there was a hint of something resigned in his tone. As though rejection was what he expected, but he’d still gone along with it anyway. Just in case, maybe; or, more likely, to finally stop _Jaskier_ from feeling rejected. 

Well that simply wouldn’t do. 

“I said nothing of the sort,” Jaskier answered; and with that, he ducked his head and set to work. 

He could barely even open his mouth wide enough for just the head of Geralt’s massive fucking cock to fit between his lips— but he could wrap his hands around the witcher’s thick shaft; and he did, sucking and tonguing at the tip, drooling thickened saliva and pumping with both hands until he had Geralt twitching and shuddering above him, hands fisted in the sheets and bitten-off, panting moans falling from his lips. 

Just watching the normally immovable, stoic witcher coming apart at his ministrations was more than enough to set Jaskier’s cock throbbing, leaking precome down his thigh where it was still trapped in his pants. Normally he would get a hand on himself at the same time, but… he really didn’t have one to spare at the moment. 

Fortunately— and to his own immeasurable pride— it didn’t take all that long before Geralt jerked with a strangled gasp, his thick cock pulsing harder still in Jaskier’s grip and spurting waves of hot, sticky come up into his waiting mouth. A _lot_ of it. The last pulses were still dripping down Jaskier’s swollen bottom lip when Geralt fisted one big hand in the front of his doublet and hauled him up the bed so fast his head spun. 

The witcher drew in a sudden, sharp breath through his nose; then covered Jaskier’s mouth in a sloppy, demanding kiss while those hands— those hands that Jaskier had spent so much time staring at and daydreaming of having on him; _in_ him— those hands yanked open his fly, shoved his clothing down his thighs, and grabbed him by both hips. 

Jaskier barely had time to gasp in a breath before he was lifted bodily up by the hips to straddle Geralt’s broad, bare shoulders and watch his cock disappear down Geralt’s throat with the witcher’s hands gripping his bare ass. 

He really didn’t last long after that. 

* * *

The next time was a little less frantic but no less gratifying. 

That time, Jaskier had the forethought to strip _before_ going down on the witcher, dropping to his knees on the floor with the aim of getting himself off with Geralt’s cock in his mouth. Or what would fit of it, anyway. Geralt stopped him before he could finish the man off that way, though, which was a bit of shame— though really, it was difficult to mind once Geralt had him panting face-down into the mattress, desperately humping the bed with Geralt’s iron-stiff cock slicked with oil and rutting into the crack of his bare ass. 

Jaskier came first, spurting into the sheets with a groan and a shudder; and Geralt planted both hands— fuck, those _hands—_ on the mattress to either side of him and thrust harder, licking a stripe up his sweaty spine before coming with a growl, the splashes of thick heat coating large swathes of Jaskier’s bare back from ass to shoulders. 

“ _Fuck,_ you smell good like this, bard,” Geralt mumbled into his shoulder blade while they lay there, trembling and twitching through the aftershocks. Jaskier had no idea what the witcher was talking about— he smelled like sweat and a whole lot of come and probably horse— but he wasn’t complaining; not with Geralt’s mouth hot and wet on his skin and Geralt’s solid weight half-pinning him to the bed. 

Not to mention the knowledge that the witcher had at _least_ another round in him, yet, if the hard, sticky heat still grinding slowly against Jaskier’s ass was any indication. 

* * *

“Gods, Geralt, will you just _fuck_ me, _please!_ ” 

Geralt looked up, letting Jaskier’s stiff, flushed cock pop from his mouth but still stroking slowly up and down with one hand. 

“I am fucking you,” he answered with a smirk, driving his fingers in a little harder to prove the point. 

“No, I mean— _aahh—_ I mean _fuck_ me, Geralt. _Properly._ ” 

“Jaskier…” 

“I mean it, witcher,” Jaskier half-snapped and half-gasped, hair a complete mess, cheeks red and blue eyes blown wide with desire as he glared down at Geralt. He smelled fantastic, like he always did in bed. Lust and sweat and oil laced through with the sharp tang of Geralt himself after he’d already come all over the bard’s flushed skin once; but Geralt wanted _more_ than that, he wanted— 

_Jaskier face-down and ass up, howling into the pillow while Geralt hammers into him, so tight on his cock he thinks he might split him in two—_

“I can’t,” Geralt said, gritting his teeth and shoving away the mental image despite the fog of lust clouding his mind. It was hard enough to keep control of himself with the hot, bright scent of Jaskier’s arousal filling his senses with every single breath, the last thing he needed was to let his mind wander to things he knew he couldn’t have. “You know—” 

“I’ve been practicing,” Jaskier blurted, cheeks blushing even redder. 

Geralt stared. “What?” 

“Well, I found a, um, purveyor of personal items, shall we say, and I’ve made fairly good progress getting used to it.” Geralt had slipped his two fingers out and was crawling up the bed while Jaskier babbled, lean chest heaving and that red flush still high in his cheeks. “I really think I’m ready and I _swear_ Geralt, if you don’t hurry up and put your dick in me already I’m going to _die._ ” 

Face-to-face with the bard now, Geralt just looked at him, not quite trusting himself to speak; and Jaskier kept going before he could manage to formulate something coherent. 

“I know how much you want it too, you’re not _nearly_ as subtle as you think you are. I know by now how much you love it when I smell like you, when I smell like I’m _yours._ ” Geralt’s breath caught and his cock jumped between his legs, and Jaskier still wasn’t done, getting more and more breathless as he went on. “I want to _feel_ you, Geralt, I want to feel you fill me up, even if all you do is come in me, _please._ ” 

Jaskier’s voice cracked and Geralt’s crumbling resolve shattered. He covered Jaskier’s mouth with his in a hard, hungry kiss, tasting the bard’s moans and inhaling sharply, filling his lungs with that almost-perfect scent; missing only the musk of Jaskier’s release to complete it. Reaching down, he pushed two fingers back in, spreading them apart to stretch Jaskier’s tight hole open even further; and Jaskier’s head fell back as he moaned, hips rocking to fuck himself on Geralt’s fingers.

“ _More._ ”

Burying his face in the long, smooth curve of Jaskier’s neck, Geralt complied, pulling his hand back to add a third finger. He eventually forced himself to stop biting and sucking at Jaskier’s skin and knelt upright, dripping fresh oil onto his hand, and— to a startled gasp and a brief clench from the bard— Jaskier’s hole. 

It took everything he had to wait until Jaskier was loose enough for him to get four fingers deep and spreading them easily before finally pulling out and slicking his cock up. 

“You sure?” Geralt grated, lining himself up with one hand and pressing Jaskier’s knee up to his chest with the other. Even with Jaskier open and wet and ready, his cock looked impossibly huge next to that tiny hole. 

“Yes, fucking _yes,_ ” Jaskier hissed, panting, getting both hands behind his own knees and pulling his legs up and open until his hips were raised off the mattress. 

Geralt put the tip of his cock to Jaskier’s hole and started pressing forward as slowly as he possibly could, his breathing coming so fast and shallow he was dizzy— and the most beautiful sound Geralt had ever heard welled up in the bard’s throat as he pushed inside him, something partway between a shivering wail, a moan, and a sob but not quite any one of them. Jaskier gradually opened for him, the head of his cock sinking deeper into that incredibly tight heat; until Jaskier’s stretched and reddened rim finally slipped over the widest part of his cockhead and Geralt was— barely— seated inside him. 

“Oh fuck… Geralt,” Jaskier whimpered, eyes wide and mouth slack, his bare chest heaving and his whole body trembling. 

The sharp scent of lust rolling off Jaskier spiked again and Geralt groaned, sliding his hand up the length of his aching cock until his fist nudged up against Jaskier’s ass. 

“You want me to come in you?” he ground out, his voice strained as he slowly stroked down his shaft and back up again. “Like this? Fill you up, make you _mine?_ ” 

Jaskier shuddered and nodded, his cock jumping off his belly, trailing a shining thread of precome. “ _Yes,_ gods, Geralt, don’t you dare fucking _stop,_ ” he gasped. 

With another shivering groan, Geralt started pumping his shaft faster, his own grip nearly as tight as the squeeze of Jaskier’s ass around the head of his cock. Jaskier didn’t stop _moaning,_ staring down through lust-darkened eyes as he panted for breath; and the demanding, burning tension rapidly wound higher and higher in Geralt’s gut, his balls pulling up tight under his throbbing cock— 

His release crashed through him, his cock twitching and pulsing as he spilled himself inside Jaskier with a shuddering groan. It seemed to go on forever, Jaskier wide-eyed and panting _yes-fuck-fuck-yes-Geralt_ while Geralt milked every last drop of come into his ass, squeezing his own cock so hard it nearly hurt. 

Jaskier’s barely coherent words had turned into a series of needy whines by the time Geralt was spent, a pleading look on his face as he squirmed in place and his stiff cock twitching erratically on his stomach. Geralt let himself enjoy the feeling of Jaskier tight and twitching around his cock for a heartbeat longer before pulling out and shoving two fingers back into Jaskier. 

“Come for me,” he growled, dropping down onto one hand with the bard’s leg hooked over his shoulder and driving his fingers deep into the slick heat of his own come until his knuckles hit Jaskier’s ass. 

Jaskier didn’t need telling twice, his free leg falling to the bed and one hand dropping to his own cock to stroke himself frantically, bottom lip caught between his teeth and his back arching while Geralt finger-fucked him hard and fast. Still panting, Geralt licked and bit at the bard’s thigh without ever taking his eyes off Jaskier’s face, contorted in desperate pleasure and need. He could smell his own come, fresh and strong as it leaked back out of Jaskier and all over his hand; and he curled his fingers forward, still pumping in and out and pulling louder and louder gasps and cries from Jaskier’s throat. 

It only took a moment or two before Jaskier came with a ragged wail, hips bucking, clenching again and again around Geralt’s fingers and spurting streaks of white out over his own stomach and chest. The warm scent of his release mingling with Geralt’s own was like a punch in the gut, and Geralt dropped down, covering Jaskier’s mouth with his in a hungry, breathless kiss, keeping his fingers buried deep inside his bard while Jaskier twitched and trembled and whimpered under him. 

Jaskier finally broke away, panting for air, and Geralt carefully pulled out of him, shifting slowly down the bed between Jaskier’s splayed legs, biting and licking a trail down the bard’s front with Jaskier’s come smeared over them both. 

As he reached the top of one trembling thigh, Geralt breathed deeply, basking in the perfect scent of _Jaskier._ Filled. Sated. Spent. 

_His._

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr! I'm [chaos-monkeyy](https://chaos-monkeyy.tumblr.com/)


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